Everything is wrong with me
Thursday, December 30, 2004
year-end, lube, strangling a chimp, washing my hair, Antarctica, music, tsunami good/bad, happy new year
This will be my last post until 2005 (until next Thursday). I was contemplating doing some sort of lame ass "Year In Review", but a) that requires a lot of work; and b) truth be told, I really don't follow pop culture that much and so thus have very little interest in any sort of kitschy list, which you can find on just about every other website.

Then I thought I might do a "Year In Review For Everything Is Wrong With Me", but that also would require a lot of work, and I think if I do anything like that, it'll be for the one year anniversary of the blog (that's February 13 - everyone mark your calendars!). Also, I don't like any sort of introspective thing generally, as I am uncomfortable being introspective for fear of what I might find out about myself - a deep held passion for watching young boys dance, a latent desire to set fire to gas stations, a need to rub every phone receiver I see on my genitals, etc.

So instead I'm keeping it real and pretending that this ain't my last post until 2005 (though it is - until next Thursday). I will do my New Year's Resolutions, but I don't wanna think about that until it's 2005. So let's get this over with...


A sign that I'm passing from youth to adulthood: I actually have to use moisturizer for my dry skin, rather than strictly as a masturbatory lube.

The skin on my knuckles has been very dry and has begun to crack, making my knuckles an unsightly reddish color with dried-out white cracks of skin that have blood seeping out of them. My female friends (read: some girl I work with and my roommate Ben) have told me that this is because the air in my apartment is very dry.

So this morning I broke out the hand lotion that for the past twelve years I've used only to make sure I don't rip the skin off my penis in an especially violent bout of masturbating and used it for its intended purposes: to heal dry skin.

I guess this is working; my knuckles don't look as nasty and are healing, but the problem is that I can't disassociate the smell of the lotion with beating off, so my hands smell like I've been masturbating.

(I don't know if that makes sense, but I really don't care.)


This morning, I woke up laughing because of a dream. I know, I know - George Carlin has a bit in which he says that nothing is more boring than when people tell you about the dream they had, but bear with me.

In the dream, I was laying on my couch watching a movie in which Will Ferrell was doing his GW Bush impersonation. He was in a room with a live chimp. He' saying something to the chimp, whose back is facing him, but I don't recall what. Then he pulls out from his sleeve one of those thin floss-like ropes that people in the movies use to strangle people, and he says in his best GW voice, "Well Chimpy - it's time for your come-uppance!" and he begins to put the super thin rope over the chimp. But just then, the scene cuts away.

I dreamed that I then fell off my couch laughing, and when I woke up I continued laughing.

Some men dream about women. Some about fame. Some about money. I dream of Will Ferrell as George W. Bush preparing to strangle a chimp. I don't even know what to say about that.


This isn't meant to be funny, but I'm looking for some help.

About once in a week when I'm in the shower, as I'm wrapping up (read: washing the semen out of the tub), I can't remember whether or not I washed my hair, so I do it again just to make sure.

Does anyone else do this? Seriously, this happens at least once a week. Toward the end, I'll think, "Wait - did I wash my hair?" and have no idea whether or not I did. Is it just me?

[I told you it wasn't meant to be funny, assholes]


I have officially made it: I have a reader in Antarctica (and possibly more than one). How many other internet quasi-celebrities can say that? Huh?

(Hi Shari and friends)


Six Songs:

- "These Foolish Things" Etta James
The point: "Everything I lay my eyes on somehow reminds me of you. And your an asshole because of it, and I'm an asshole for feeling it. I mean, shit."

- "Building A Mystery" Sarah McLachlan
This song reminds me so vividly of the girls I met (or even just saw) at BC in my freshman year. I was blown away by college girls, nonplussed with a besotted lust, and hearing this song reminds me of them (since every girl on my hall loved Sarah McLachlan). I can't wait to get famous and sleep with all of them (at once).

(God I love using parentheses)

- "Flutes Of The Chi" Ween
I fucking love Ween. Everyone should. I want to know more about them, but they can be scary. This song is not scary. Trust me.

- "Cherub Rock" Smashing Pumpkins
This song brings be back to being 14, trying to grow my hair long, having a boner because I learned the intro to "Plush" on my new guitar, and masturbating at least 4 times a day. I think the first time I heard this song and the distortion broke in during the intro I about shit myself. Ah, memories.

- "Big Time" Neil Young
Neil Young can nail a feeling with fewer words than anyone on earth (i.e. "Talkin' 'bout you and me/Talkin' 'bout eternity"). Good shit Neil, even if you did the horrible movie-musical last year.

- "Goodbye Girl" Squeeze
More people have to listen to this band, because they are awesome. Great music, great vocals, great lyrics - honestly, one of my top 5 favorite bands. Start with this song, and we'll take it from there.


Please, if you are able, donate to help the victims of the Asian tsunami tragedies.

Of course, I will probably start making tsunami jokes next week, like:

Guy 1: "Did you hear about that new Thai restaurant?
Guy 2: "No."
Guy 1: "It's great - it's got panoramic views of the water. Of course it's a bitch to get to, seeing as it's 600 miles out in the Indian Ocean, but at least the seafood is really fresh."


Q: What's the new national sport of Sri Lanka?
A: Body surfing.

But I did donate, giving all of the proceeds I've received from you readers for this new site, so I can make a joke or two if I wish.

[If you wish to use the jokes, just credit me with a link.]

[God, that second one is horrible. Good lord.]


I would like to wish everyone a happy and safe New Year, and an awesome fucking New Year's Eve. 2004 has been a good year, and I look forward to a happy and successful 2005, as I continue to share the intimate details of my horrible sex-free/man-boob life until I get sick of writing this (probably around March). Until then, let's all have a good time, and godspeed.

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